


In The Cold, Cold Night

by myracingthoughts



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Cold Weather, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Ice, Injury, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:33:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28027836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myracingthoughts/pseuds/myracingthoughts
Summary: It was supposed to be a weekend away.Out in the mountains, snow on the ground and a warm fire inside. Hot cocoa and knit blankets and all the fuzzy family bullshit people stuff into the time between Thanksgiving and the New Year.Not this.
Relationships: Frank Castle/Karen Page
Comments: 18
Kudos: 51





	In The Cold, Cold Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [treaddelicately](https://archiveofourown.org/users/treaddelicately/gifts).



> This fic was written for the @[whump-advent-calendar](https://whump-advent-calendar.tumblr.com/) ‘break the ice’ prompt and requested by the lovely @[treaddelicately](https://archiveofourown.org/users/treaddelicately).

It was supposed to be a weekend away.

Out in the mountains, snow on the ground and a warm fire inside. Hot cocoa and knit blankets and all the fuzzy family bullshit people stuff into the time between Thanksgiving and the New Year. He could remember the look on Karen’s face when he first asked her. The way her big blue eyes lit up at the thought of getting away from the stresses of city living, even if it was only for a weekend.

He could remember the grateful ‘thank you’ she slipped between sheets in her Hell’s Kitchen apartment.

 _Their_ Hell’s Kitchen apartment. As much as he hesitated to call any place (any _thing_ or any person) his own, it was the one place that was truly theirs.

But all they were looking for was an escape.

Not this.

“Frank, I’ve rerouted their tracking devices to ping off an area 40 miles away, thanks to that scrambler I gave you. You should be in the clear for at least a day so you can put some distance between ’em,” Lieberman’s voice sounded a little strained in his ear. 

Or maybe Frank was just grateful he had the high tech doodad he’d been playing with for the last few months.

“You two OK?”

He could hear the concern in his tone. That little question underneath that knew quiet didn’t always mean _all clear_.

“Sweeping. I’ll check in later,” Frank murmured before tearing the earpiece out of his head. 

This was not how today was supposed to go.

Not the rush of mercenaries pounding the ground in military-issued tac gear. Not Frank hurriedly shoving Karen out the backdoor and hissing for her to hide. Not pacing around bodies on the floor of the quiet cabin. Not the trail of blood, bright and red as it pooled in the combat boot footprints in the snow. 

And especially not calling out desperately into the dimming dusk light seemingly asking the universe for a sign of life, “Karen?”

It was closer to a bellow, the hoarse whisky of his voice straining what was left of his throat. Frank worried he wouldn’t hear her over the thudding in his ears.

“ _Karen!_ ”

The thundering of his heavy footfalls was just starting to break through his ears, rising over the blood rushing every which way, drowning out the swirling thoughts.

“Frank!”

That undercurrent of fear ran through her voice, and he swore he’d never run so fast in his life. But as soon as he saw her, he stopped in his tracks.

“Jesus Christ,” he swore under his breath at the scene in front of him.

And while her stance, the nervous glancing downwards and the weapon nearly falling from her shaking hands were a dead giveaway, he heard it before it really set in: the snaps. Deep fissures breaking in the ice, threatening to give way to the freezing water below. Frank spotted the source, a few rogue bullet holes pooling water onto what _had_ been very thick ice.

Now threatening to crumble out from under her.

“Frank. What do I do?”

His mind was already whirring towards a solution, any solution, where he could take this burden instead of Karen. The tears streaming down from her face, the spatter of blood from an up-close shot, the red on the tip of her nose. He catalogued every inch of her as he thought back to his training.

“You’re going to get down, closer to the ground very slowly, OK? You wanna end up on your belly.”

Karen gave a jerky nod, trying to regulate her breathing towards something further from a near-panic attack. Frank showed her how, dropping down himself so he could edge himself close to the ice. Closer to her. If only he could get into arms’ reach…

“OK. OK,” Karen whispered to herself. “I can do this.”

“That’s right, sweetheart, you’ve got this,” Frank added, throat tight and eyes darting in every which way, trying to anticipate the break. “That’s right, nice and easy.”

She was so close. So close. Ten more seconds…

But that final crack came, the fissure breaking off into the water and, while he might have expected a scream or a cry, the icy slap of water and silence was much worse. Everything else seemed to melt away at the moment, Frank’s heart clenching as she dropped through the ice.

“Karen!”

He tried not to lose his nerve, propelling himself forward to try to catch a limb, holding his breath as his fingers latched around her forearm. Scooting back, he carefully slid her body horizontally across the ice. The sputters and choking that came as he laid her down on solid ground made him grit his teeth. But when she finally expelled the last of the water she’d swallowed, he swore he could have knelt down and prayed to the gods he’d denied for so long.

“I-I w-wa-was j-just t-t-trying to es-esca-ape,” Karen chattered out, lips too blue and eyes too red.

“I know, sweetheart,” Frank said hoarsely. “You did good. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Frank could see the shivers starting to dissipate, and he knew he was running out of time. He had to get her inside. 

He pulled her into his arms, hurried into the house, bounding towards the top floor and barricading himself into the guest room. The room with the smallest and fewest windows, with the only exit onto the West-facing roof, should things go south. Never mind the weapons stashed under the bed. A few explosives, some louder automatics that would have given Karen an opportunity to escape.

Frank never imagined that his recon on the rental —which came almost automatically at this point— would have come to literal fruition.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry, I’m going to get you warm,” Frank mumbled, a steady stream of apologies flowing from his lips, filling the silence that should have been her voice. 

It should have been her telling him to cut it out with the martyr stuff. That he was giving Red a run for his money on the self-flagellation. Anything would have been better than the empty air and too-still body lying limp in his arms. He was supposed to have protected her, looked out for her, promised her safety.

Not this.

He quickly slipped off her wet clothes, tearing blankets off of the nearby beds and couches to wrap her up in something dry. 

Bodyheat. The quickest way to warm her back up. 

Frank stripped off his own clothes, quickly taking her hands between his, clasping them in an effort to warm them up. No rubbing, he remembered, but they didn’t look too bad. After pressing a kiss to her fingertips, Frank slipped between the covers, pulling her into his chest as he cocooned her in the layers of fabric. He seemed to almost interlock with her body, fitting perfectly against the peaks and valleys.

It wasn’t until the blue subsided from her lips and she started shivering that Frank found his voice again, the one that wasn’t just above a whisper.

“You’re going to be fine, sweetheart,” he mumbled into the top of her head. “I got you.”

In a few minutes, he’d make her eat and drink something to further stave off the risk of hypothermia. And in a few hours, they’d make a run for it, probably back to the city where it was a lot easier to hide. 

But for now, heartbeat settling down to normal levels, he was content to listen to the strong thrum of her heart and breathe her in again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading. All comments, kudos and bookmarks are loved and cherished.
> 
> This fic was a prompt. You can find my [prompts, ships, and details here](https://pasmonblog.tumblr.com/prompts) if you're interested in adding to my WIP list (please do).


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